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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26564239">Stolen Angel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bad_Side/pseuds/The_Bad_Side'>The_Bad_Side</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wandering [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Nen, Dom/sub, M/M, Masochism, Painplay, Power Bottom, Underage Prostitution, Wax Play</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:01:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,411</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26564239</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bad_Side/pseuds/The_Bad_Side</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>*Reading the first part of the series is not necessary to read this story.*</p><p>It’s as if he’s falling and with his next breath his angel is going to make him fly... </p><p>Chrollo, obsessed with his Troupe, hardly knows what to do with his own desires when they are apart. When it’s just him and his angel, he relies on Kurapika to lead.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Kurapika</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wandering [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915882</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>127</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stolen Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“You belong in the trash, no, the cinerary. Because you’re worse than trash.” Kurapika grips his jaw with a bruising force. The other members of the troop know better than to ask about any bruising from Chrollo’s bedroom by now for fear of retribution in the form of a truthful answer.</p><p>Despite the ache, Chrollo’s face remains relaxed and open to reveal his subtle delight. Chrollo, as a man of few expressions, couldn't possibly look more excited than he does at this moment. The admiration flickers in his unwavering gaze and his steady breathing tickles those nearby lips which are curled in disgust to hiss insults in Chrollo’s face.</p><p>It’s the closest thing he has to a kiss right now.</p><p>Kurapika punctuates his scathing words by spitting between Chrollo’s awed lips. Chrollo’s eyes widen as his breath is stolen from him, turning into a trembling moan. Even as his heart races, Chrollo remains perfectly still. He’s unwilling to risk spilling or swallowing the sweet treasure just yet - wanting to savor it as it pools on his tongue. Pleasure spreads through Chrollo when he finally does swallow. It’s hotter and more dizzying than anything he’s ever tasted. Chrollo closes his eyes for just a moment and believes with his heart that he can feel it deep inside.</p><p>His serenity is rewarded with a slap that echoes throughout the room and rings in his ears.</p><p>Pain blooms scarlet across Chrollo’s left cheek.</p><p>“Are you ungrateful, creep?” Kurapika has let go of Chrollo’s jaw to grab his hair instead, jerking his head back. “Say it.”</p><p>Chrollo opens his eyes to look up at Kurapika. His scowl is almost too much. Chrollo’s lips tremble with bubbling passion.</p><p>“Thank you,” His voice is barely more than a whisper, but clear. It doesn’t convey how deeply aroused he is but Kurapika will understand.</p><p>Kurapika lets go of Chrollo’s hair to shove his face away but Chrollo can’t be sent far. He lay helpless, caught in elaborate red bondage - one of Kurapika’s many talents. The cheap hotel rug that he’s laying on offers minimal padding, just enough to cushion Kurapika’s knees but not so much that the surface is unsteady. The raised bed is only a meter away, but Chrollo doubts tonight will be the sort of night it gets used.</p><p>Kurapika turns his nose up at Chrollo, his blond hair dancing with the warm light of the many candles that are placed around the room like an altar.</p><p>“You’re sick.”</p><p>Kurapika stands over Chrollo’s face, giving him a view straight up the oversized, white silk button-up stolen from Chrollo’s wardrobe. The shirt hangs low enough to cover Kurapika’s thighs but fails to shield him from Chrollo’s wandering gaze, directly under the boy. </p><p>Chrollo doesn’t have long to admire the sight before his vision is obstructed by Kurapika’s foot in his face.</p><p>“Sick and disgusting. You’re a pervert.” Kurapika grinds the ball of his foot into Chrollo’s cheek. “Well?”</p><p>“Yes, angel,” Chrollo murmurs.</p><p>It’s all he can say, for it’s the truth. Kurapika is his angel.</p><p>Chrollo tilts his head to press reverent kisses to the bottom of Kurapika’s foot. Just like he did the first time they met.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Four months ago, Chrollo’s group raided the high-profile club because of its luxurious front. Suits and velvet and watches and jewelry decorated the sparkling ballroom, just begging to be taken. It was almost too easy to rob every criminal, underground, white-collar, and politician alike that night. Uvogin blazed through the building, seeking resistance to crush. Nobunaga was on his right to provide support and Shalnark was on his left to provide direction. Shizuku followed close behind to clean out the heavy pockets of every dead body while Phinks and Feitan competed for who could cause the most terror. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It was Machi’s keen eyes that found the Dark Room, an ornate wooden door hidden behind a heavy, blue velvet curtain. Inside, they found even more treasure. The drugs and jewelry were worth more to the Troupe than the women and the shocked patrons who offered little resistance. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Looking down the barrel of her gun, it was Pakunoda who found the greatest treasure of all. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> With his pretty features enhanced by makeup and his slim body fit into a blue nightgown, Chrollo had thought he was another woman at first. He was crouching by one of the leather couches, body hunched like a cat. His eyes were framed by sharp, graphic red liner and blazed with courage as he glared up the metal gun barrel. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Who could the man who was cowering behind the androgynous boy be other than the head of the Nostrad family himself? The old man trembled with fear as he gripped the young whore’s shoulders, unable to make himself small enough to truly hide. Despite Nostrad’s age and status, he lacked even a fraction of the power that burned in the eyes of the boy in front of him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The scene before Chrollo was easy to read. Nostrad’s disheveled appearance made it clear that this room was a place where he felt comfortable enough to do anything he wanted without consequence. Though it was true that Chrollo wasn’t here to pass judgments or deliver any form of justice, he was striking fear and bringing death all the same. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The one thing Chrollo could not read was himself. There was nothing for him to consider, no thoughts or feelings that he can remember. All he knows is what he did. He stole his very own angel. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Chrollo’s stolen angel leaves him trembling with greed as Kurapika pulls his foot away. Too far away for Chrollo to worship no matter how he strains for it.</p><p>Kurapika grabs the glass jar candle sitting in wait on the hotel dresser. The wax is red as deep as blood and melts at the perfect temperature - high enough to leave Chrollo’s skin stinging and sensitive but low enough to not create a lasting scar.</p><p>Kurapika returns to kneel over Chrollo, the familiar candle hovering over his lap. His cock is as tightly bound as the rest of him but there is still plenty of exposed skin for Kurapika.</p><p>Chrollo’s breathing picks up to match the building anticipation that’s singing in his ears. It’s nearly unbearable enough to make Chrollo squirm but he doesn’t. He remains perfectly still, obedient as Kurapika likes him. </p><p>“This is what you deserve.”</p><p>Chrollo’s eyes flutter at the sweet words hidden in the scathing tone but he keeps them open to watch his generous angel tip the candle. </p><p>Each drop of wax seems to fall in slow motion. The first lands on his thigh, stinging and causing his abdomen to tighten. The second is larger and blesses him by landing just beneath his navel with searing heat. The third drop is a kiss on the shaft of Chrollo’s erection, scathing with the heat of Kurapika’s passion. That one forces a grunt from Chrollo’s chest.<br/><br/></p><p>
  <em> The first night Chrollo experienced his angel’s passion is a treasured memory. Chrollo didn’t see how it happened, but somehow the little sixteen-year-old whore had managed to break Uvogin’s hand when Uvo went to carry him as part of their haul. Machi swooped in quickly to restrain the boy after that. There was quite a commotion from Nobunaga, who was angry, and Uvo, who thought it was funny. Phinks carried the restrained boy over his shoulder after that. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Pakunoda shot a questioning glance at Chrollo when he instructed Phinks and Machi to bring Kurapika straight to his hotel room. Chrollo left her gaze unanswered, having complete faith in Pakunoda to understand there was no cause for concern. Even if this sort of decision was completely unlike Chrollo. Pakunoda may never understand why, but Chrollo doubts that he ever will either. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Machi and Phinks left Chrollo’s treasure bound in his room while Chrollo helped the rest of the Troupe with the remaining objects. Had Chrollo not been expecting some form of impressive violence from his pretty angel, the boy probably would have succeeded in knocking him out or killing him that same night.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A part of him wished to see what would have happened if, when his angel had pounced from behind the door as Chrollo opened it, the boy had actually bashed in his temple with the lamp from his bedside table. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The boy must have worked his way through the loop of his own arms to move the wrists bound behind him to his front. This way, he was hindered but not incapacitated. He was probably planning to get his hands on whatever weapon Chrollo had - his knife - and go from there. But Chrollo would never know what his angel would have done next as he dodged the lamp and lunged forward to lift the boy over his shoulder. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Chrollo accepted every blow of the boy’s elbows and every desperate kick as he brought his treasure to the bathroom. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Why fight me?” Chrollo had asked, lowering the boy to have him sit on the marble counter. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The boy’s leg swung out for a kick that never landed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I am a worker, not a slave.” The boy hissed and aimed another kick at Chrollo’s head. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Chrollo caught his ankle and this only enraged his treasure further. He jerked his leg back but Chrollo held tight. The boy’s fight stalled, caught on the sight of Chrollo pressing a kiss to the inside of his ankle. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You are beautiful. Like an angel.” Chrollo said to his angel for the first time. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Whether the boy was stuck on the action itself or the genuine nature of his words, Chrollo couldn’t tell. He only knew that the highest virtue he possessed was honesty and he had to offer it to his angel. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The boy’s groomed brows furrowed and his lip curled up in a snarl. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “... Is that what you say to everyone you want to rape for free?” The boy bit out although even he no longer sounded sure of his words. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Chrollo shook his head ‘no’ and lowered the soft foot to the tiled floor. He followed the motion with his head and folded his hands on the floor in front of him to present a deep bow. He pressed his lips to the top of his angel’s foot and for his worship, he was rewarded with a kick to the face. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“You want me to touch you, right?” Kurapika’s tone shifts to aloof as he sets the candle back down on the dresser.</p><p>The angel lowers himself to the floor, onto his hands and knees to hover over Chrollo without touching him. Kurapika slowly lowers his head to blow a cool stream of air on the underside of Chrollo’s erection.</p><p>Chrollo’s self-restraint is tested, but he remains strong by staying still. The only thing he gives Kurapika is what he wants: an answer.</p><p>“Yes,” Chrollo whispers.</p><p>Kurapika looks from Chrollo’s bound cock to his face, eyes sharp beneath his feathery lashes.</p><p>“Aren’t you pathetic? Already so hard without being touched.”</p><p>Chrollo stares back at Kurapika, not wanting to miss even the slightest twitch in those soft lashes or the way the flickering light caresses his skin all it wants.</p><p>“I am,” Chrollo’s chest is hardly moving with the shallow breaths he’s taking, not wanting to give any reason for his angel to move away.</p><p>When Kurapika frowns, Chrollo’s mind works even faster. He’s so still and he’s speaking the truth. What mistake could he have made?</p><p>“Blink.”</p><p>
  <em> What? </em>
</p><p>Chrollo doesn’t comprehend the word and then all at once he’s noticing the stinging in his eyes. He’s been staring far too much. He blinks, then has to blink a few more times for his eyes to feel better.</p><p>“Ah… thank you.”</p><p>Kurapika huffs through his nose then pushes himself up. He shifts to turn around, still careful to avoid touching for now. When he’s fully facing away from Chrollo, their skin finally makes contact in the form of Kurapika sitting directly on Chrollo’s stomach. Chrollo grunts at the weight but is far from bothered. His heart leaps when Kurapika sets his attention to picking the bits of dried wax off his erection. Kurapika must want his cock clean and no matter the reason, Chrollo is excited. His cock twitches as Kurapika’s nail scrapes over the tender skin.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You’re a freak!” The boy had spat his first insult at Chrollo with venom that paralyzed his good judgment. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The graphic scarlet liner around the boy’s wide eyes had become smeared and the shimmering face powder showed angry creases under the harsh bathroom lighting. Still, Chrollo was without doubt. He had complete faith he was kneeling before an angel as blood dripped from his nose onto the white tiles. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> While Chrollo rarely understood himself, he always understood his values. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You understand that I am no threat to you.” Chrollo felt nothing but serenity with his palms and eyes pressed to the bathroom floor. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Chrollo’s angel, born kind and generous, unfurled his legs like a blooming flower. No longer poised for a follow-up attack, the boy looked around the room as though there was an explanation in the Victorian-footed bath or the cross-tipped towel rack. His gaze eventually settled on the mirror where he only found more questions in the scene reflected back at him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What’s your name?” The boy finally asked Chrollo, who hadn’t found it to be so important to introduce himself until now. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Chrollo,” He offered. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The angel only seemed to become more unsteady as he had a name to call his thief.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “... Help me get this off…” Chrollo’s angel grumbled his first order. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Whether he meant the makeup or the bonds on his wrists, Chrollo readily offered his services. He freed the boy’s wrists first, which went very well as no further blows were rained upon his face.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m… Kurapika.” The angel said, the truth music to Chrollo. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> This small reward got Chrollo too excited although he didn’t show so much as a smile. When he got a washcloth dampened, he got ahead of himself, foolishly reaching forward to clean Kurapika’s lovely face. That was how Chrollo earned his first slap across the face, a drying trail of blood still running down to his lip. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Don’t touch me!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Wariness of retribution was visible in the tremble of Kurapika’s still raised hand but his eyes remained solid. However, not once had there been so much as a glimmer of hostility in Chrollo’s own eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Kurapika snatched the damp towel from Chrollo to clean his own face, half turning from him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Of course, Chrollo had the filthy hands of a thief, unworthy of touching his stolen angel as he pleased. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Kurapika turned to clean his face and neck in the mirror behind him, always keeping one eye on the shadow who stared at him. As Kurapika tilted his head back to scrub his neck, the gold bar dangling from his ear swung to catch the light and Chrollo’s eyes. Suddenly, Chrollo is struck with the memory of a pair of earrings he saw not long ago on a rich lady at the club. Earrings so long that it’s dainty golden chains would drop to the middle of Kurapika’s neck, ending in vibrant rubies. Kurapika would suit them much better than their former owner. Chrollo would get them for his angel. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> After Kurapika cleaned his face and neck, he wet the cloth with water in the sink behind him. Next, he moved on to scrubbing his arms. Then he placed the cloth down next to him and pulled the nightgown over his head so he could wipe down his body. Chrollo knew better than to touch this time but he still- </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Stop staring, it’s creepy,” Kurapika demanded, clutching his recently removed satin to his flat chest. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Chrollo’s pleasure plummeted to the floor along with his eyes, but he didn’t complain. He felt this loss to be a devastating blow until he saw his blood darkening on the tiles and felt a little better. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Kurapika scrubbed at his skin so hard, Chrollo could hear it. It sounded as though he was trying to rub it off. Chrollo shifted, disquieted by the sound. The tiniest movement made Kurapika tense, his attention snapping back to Chrollo. After a few pounding heartbeats in which Chrollo didn’t so much as breathe, Kurapika slowly relaxed and went back to cleaning himself - this time more gently. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Somehow, deeper into the evening, Chrollo was permitted to touch Kurapika. He doesn’t quite remember as events leading up to it being a blur. He feels like the transition was sudden. His angel must have sharply given the order. Perhaps, Kurapika was testing Chrollo. He suspects that to be the reason Kurapika never demanded he be left alone in the bathroom in the first place. Be it a test or pity or morbid curiosity, Chrollo’s pretty angel didn’t demand solitude. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’ve got a razor, haven’t you?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Chrollo’s memory comes back into perfect focus at some point while Kurapika is lounging against the mirror behind him - left leg cradled in Chrollo’s hand for Chrollo to run the blade of the razor over Kurapika’s creamy skin. There was the faintest amount of stubble on Kurapika’s legs, as well as between them, but it seems as though he was kept mostly hairless for his role in Nostrad’s Dark Room. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Chrollo kept his eyes down and never wavered from his task, but he could feel Kurapika’s strong gaze - a mix of fascination and repulsion.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>This evening, in a significantly down-graded hotel room many cities away from York New City where they first met, Kurapika’s immaculate leg stands strong between Chrollo’s knees. Chrollo’s tongue feels heavy, mouth-watering as he looks up the length of it to his angel’s face. A single, sparkling ruby dangles just below his hair and plays with fire on the left side of his neck.</p><p>“It’s time for judgment.” Kurapika declares.</p><p>Those words finally cause the whimper clinging to Chrollo’s lips to fall into the air. Music rings in Chrollo’s ears to the tune of Judgement as Kurapika gives Chrollo a shove with his foot.</p><p>“On your knees.”</p><p>Chrollo rolls onto his front and immediately feels the relief of weight off his arms, which are still bound behind his back. He keeps going, pulling his knees up under his body so he may kneel. Every movement causes the rug to scrape over his sensitive skin, worsening the burning sensation.</p><p>With his shoulders down and his nose pressed to the rug, Chrollo is happy.</p><p>“You were so pathetic today.” Kurapika praises Chrollo and treats him with stepping on the back of his head. “You can’t seriously think I’d let you fuck me.”</p><p>Chrollo closes his eyes, since there is nothing worth seeing at the moment, and embraces the flutter in his stomach. It’s as if he’s falling and with his next breath his angel is going to make him fly.</p><p>“... but I’ll allow you to get off with me.”</p><p>Chrollo trembles at those words, knowing that to be a great privilege. In the beginning, it was rare for Kurapika to even let Chrollo be in the room with him while he got himself off. He remembers being shoved into the bathroom many times with the command of <em> sit </em>. Those nights, Chrollo obeyed, of course. He’d sit on his knees for thirty minutes or more with his ear pressed to the door, straining to hear his angel’s soft sounds of pleasure.</p><p>Increasingly over the last month, Kurapika has been allowing Chrollo to watch and occasionally participate.</p><p>Kurapika bends over to fist Chrollo’s hair and uses it to pull Chrollo over towards the bed. He sits on the raised bed himself and has Chrollo kneel at his feet. The silk shirt is riding high on Kurapika’s thighs with the way he is seated. With the way his angel is holding Chrollo’s head up, he can see all of that and more.</p><p>Chrollo’s lips twitch up into a serene smile as he sees the bulge of Kurapika’s erection and thinks to himself: <em> I did that. </em> His ego feasts on the pride that gives him like a starving sinner.</p><p>Kurapika slips his smooth leg between Chrollo’s, fitting his shin right against Chrollo’s own neglected length, tempting him.</p><p>“Open your mouth,” was the order Chrollo was salivating for.</p><p>Chrollo, obsessed with his Troupe, hardly knows what to do with his own desires when they are apart. When it’s just him and his angel, he relies on Kurapika to lead.</p><p> </p>
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